


If We Sink

by giraffles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Happy Ending, He's so bad at life, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not their wedding, Sappy, Shance Secret Santa 2018, Wedding, hands u these crumbs and begs for forgiveness, how do post grad college jobs work I JUST DONT KNOW, it'll all work out i promise, no lions just dumb boys, shiro you absolute EGG
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 14:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17163614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giraffles/pseuds/giraffles
Summary: "Lance," Shiro starts in the most serious, dire tone that he's ever heard, "I need your help."He sounds like it's a matter of life and death, but he's also shifting nervously. Almost as though there's something else he wants to say and is too shy to.or, the story of fake boyfriends, being the gay cousin, and two oblivious people.





	If We Sink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Litamaxwell45](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Litamaxwell45/gifts).



> for @litamaxwell45 on tumblr for the Shance Secrect Santa! the prompts I used were fake dating and mutual pining, because they're too good of a combo not to do. 👌 
> 
> apologies again that this is only part one-- but I wanted to get something to you before the end of christmas day in my time zone. ;3; I hope you'll forgive me, and I'll have the rest polished up and posted soon!

      "Lance," Shiro starts in the most serious, dire tone that he's ever heard, "I need your help."

He sounds like it's a matter of life and death, but he's also shifting nervously. Almost as though there's something else he wants to say and is too shy to. Which is, to say the least, unusual for Shiro. He's always so confident and charismatic that it's jarring to see him on edge.

Lance recovers, and asks, "Uh, sure?"

      "My cousin is getting married next weekend," Shiro wrings his hands, "And I, well, said I was bringing my boyfriend."

      "When did you get a _boyfriend-_ -"

      "That's the part I need help with," he breaks in, "I don't have one. I can't take Keith, my parents already know he's seeing someone else. And I specifically said 'boyfriend' so that locks out everyone else I know. So, um, I was wondering if, and you don't have to, would... would you go with me?"

He's so sheepish when he asks, and Lance can plainly see the flush of embarrassment creeping up his face. He's cuter than anyone has a right to be. And Lance's brain short circuits for a moment, because holy crow, is this really happening? He cannot believe this is happening. The awkward silence stretches between them.

      "Sorry," Shiro finally says, "I know it's a pretty out there request. Don't worry about it--"

      "Now hold on," Lance is scrambling out of his chair. Like hell is he going to let this opportunity slip between his fingers just because he was momentarily tongue tied. "I didn't say 'no'."

     "I need some more info first," Lance stalls, willing his voice not to crack with anxiety, "What _kind_ of wedding? Big? Small? Traditional western? Casual?"

Shiro blinks back at him, clearly confused. "A... wedding-wedding?"

      "God, you really are hopeless."

      "Sorry," he apologizes again, "I'm not good at this kind of thing."

And Shiro has these eyes, these big, puppy-dog eyes that Lance knows he can't be doing on purpose, because he's not capable of manipulating someone like that-- at least, never consciously. But he's face-to-face with that legendary pull, the one that he would do nearly anything for.

Including, apparently, becoming his fake significant other for a bit.

Lance can't say no. He really _should_  say it though, considering the fact that he's been crushing more than a little on the astronomy TA. Which is something he'll take to his grave need be. So, in actuality, it's a terrible idea. It's unfair to both of them, with his pining heart and Shiro being in the dark. He should decline, and maybe find someone else to be a stand in.

      "I need to know what I should wear, and if we should be matching--"

Lance can't finish the sentence as he's bodily lifted into the air, crushed into an embrace that steals his breath in too many ways. Shiro has him around his middle, easily holding him aloft, and he prays to anyone and anything listening that Shiro can't hear his heart going ninety miles a minute.

      " _Thank you,_ " Shiro seems blissfully ignorant, and is nearly cheering into his ear, "Thank you so much, I didn't know what I was going to do."

      "No problem," he squeaks out, "that's what friends are for, right?"

 

* * *

 

There's no universe where this ends well.

The rest of the week passes normally, from one day to the next, and Lance convinces himself that itll be fine. They'll avoid too many questions, lay low, give some obligatory-but-totally-fake PDA, and no one will be the wiser. Hell, he might even have fun. While he's dying of a heart attack for being in proximity of Shiro for so long.

No, Lance decides that Saturday morning, this is the hubris of his life catching up all at once. And now he has to pay in the purgatory of pretending to be someone's boyfriend. If it was anyone else, it wouldn't have been a big deal. Lance could have handled that. But that's not how it was-- it was Shiro who had asked and Shiro who was waiting on the other side of his apartment door, ready to go and looking overwhelmingly amazing. 

He's in black, which is always a good look on him, but the shirt peaking out is a deep red. It's dark and striking and--

      "Shit."

Shiro laughs nervously, and Lance wants to sink through the floor and into the center of the earth. That wasn't supposed to be aloud.

      "I mean," he recovers, "I mean, _look_  at you."

      "Don't be like that," Shiro says, "You look nicer."

Lance won't argue that he's at least presentable, even if the grey suit set he owns is a little worn from multiple events. A side effect of being the youngest child in a large family. Though his brother did have the audacity to get hitched while he was too young to join in on the open bar. Lance has yet to forgive him.

Come to think of it, he knows next to nothing about Shiro's family. He's not a shy person, per se, but he doesn't put much out in the open without specific prompting. The thought occurs to Lance that he could be in for an afternoon with a bunch of terrible people, and that's almost enough to distract him from Shiro leaning on the door frame. Almost.

      "Ready?"

      "As I'll ever be."

Shiro's grin is contagious. He's radiant as he leads them both to the car, and even holds the door open. Which is supposed to be _Lance's_  thing, but he's too giddy to either protest or make a flirty quip about it. Maybe later, after he's regained his nerve and remembered how to breathe again.

      "So," he begins as Shiro starts the engine, "We-- we need to get our stories straight."

      "Stories--? Oh, _oh_ , right. That."

      "Unless you want them to think we're the most forgetful or least romantic couple in human history."

Shiro snorts. "Honestly, no one would question it."

      "Speak for yourself! I'm not about to be slandered in a public forum."

And he's laughing again, hunched over the steering wheel. "Don't worry, I'll make sure your image isn't tarnished, _Loverboy_."

Any intelligent response crumbles when Shiro says that. It's as though he knows exactly how to get Lance to shut up.

Which, at this point, he does. It's barely been a year and a half since Lance accidentally knocked a paint can off the roof of the college, where it had tumbled into the path of one unlucky person. It didn't hit Shiro, which had been a cold comfort at the time, but instead spattered him in an arc of blue. Lance had almost broken his neck scrambling down to try to apologize, to do damage control, momentarily terrified by the thought that this guy might just strangle him instead.

But he didn't. He had every right to, considering the blue had never quite come out of that hoodie, but he let Lance pull him into the nearest bathroom to try to wash the worst of it off. As it turned out, Shiro was a pretty cool guy-- repeating that it was alright, really, it was fine, accidents happened. He wouldn't let Lance buy him a new sweatshirt or anything.

Then they started running into each other around campus, despite the two of them being in vastly different departments. Shiro had all his science and math and theories about time and space, and Lance did his best scrapeing by in the arts. It wasn't the worst job-- especially after he stumbled into being friends with one very kind, and super hot, guy he almost seriously injured.

      "Are you okay?" Shiro's voice snaps him back to reality. He looks concerned, and it's endearing on him.

      "M'fine," Lance mumbles back, "Just trying to forget the time I nearly killed you with a paint can."

      "I'm glad you didn't," Shiro says lightly, "I kinda like living."

He's teasing, but there's still an underlying tension in the air. Lance puts on a brave face.

He only has to survive the evening.


End file.
